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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22778743">010</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/omfgiminlovewithneeks/pseuds/The%20Tozier%20Wheeler%20Twins'>The Tozier Wheeler Twins (omfgiminlovewithneeks)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Underappreciated Stranger Things Pairings [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stranger Things (TV 2016)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>010 escaped instead of 011, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Gen, I did say ALTERNATE UNIVERSE, M/M, no mind flayers, season 1 and everything after that didn't happen, so no demogorgons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 15:29:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,263</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22778743</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/omfgiminlovewithneeks/pseuds/The%20Tozier%20Wheeler%20Twins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>The bleeding and the pounding might’ve been because he’d never used his powers on a dozen people in that short amount of time, and he only knew it had been ten hours because of the watch he’d stolen from the gas station where he’d made his escape. After all, that had been the only thing he could get his hands on to hide the number <b>010</b> on his wrist. On the bright side, they’d given him normal clothes before putting him in the car, so he didn’t need to worry about looking like he’d escaped from a hospital.</p>
</blockquote><br/>Or, how Mike ran into another experiment instead.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dustin Henderson &amp; Mike Wheeler, Dustin Henderson/Mike Wheeler</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Underappreciated Stranger Things Pairings [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1267067</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Never</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/castrateyourhumanpride/gifts">castrateyourhumanpride</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I originally planned this to be a birthday oneshot — something I could write in like 12 hours or so. Needless to say, things got out of hand.</p><p>Guess I should've gone with the sick fic idea instead.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter beta'd by @<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/castrateyourhumanpride">castrateyourhumanpride</a>, @<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewasthewind/">shewasthewind</a>, and @<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/deasar/pseuds/trashmouthTM">trashmouthTM</a>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Everything hurt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His lungs were burning with every breath he took. His legs were threatening to fall off. There were scratches all over his body, and he was certain that the bottom of his feet were bleeding from all the sharp stones he’d stepped on ever since he’d gotten away. That wasn’t the only place, though, since his nose had just stopped bleeding, and his head was still pounding since the last time he’d used his powers, which had been roughly ten hours ago. The bleeding and the pounding might’ve been because he’d never used his powers on a dozen people in that short amount of time, and he only knew it had been ten hours because of the watch he’d stolen from the gas station where he’d made his escape. After all, that had been the only thing he could get his hands on to hide the number </span>
  <b>010</b>
  <span> on his wrist. On the bright side, they’d given him normal clothes before putting him in the car, so he didn’t need to worry about looking like he’d escaped from a hospital.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Things probably would’ve been a lot more difficult if Papa had been there during his transport, but luckily, either the guards had underestimated him, or they didn’t know about his powers. He bet it was the former, at least for some of them, since the rest of those people at the old Lab had underestimated him as well, otherwise they wouldn’t have used other scientists to test his ability. After all, who would let someone read their memories willingly like that? He’d already told them it was like flipping through a book, and they’d still assumed he could only read the last two pages or something. Since they only asked about the things they expected him to see, he didn’t have to tell them anything about the other stuff he’d learned with his ability. Those people had definitely taught him more than he was allowed to know. Unfortunately, none of those included the ability to survive in the wild as a twelve-year-old. He was lucky it wasn’t winter, otherwise he would’ve become a popsicle a long time ago already. Although, this rain wasn’t that much of an upgrade either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was walking down a long road now, where to, he didn’t know. He’d walked past a sign sometime earlier, and he’d definitely read that sign, but he didn’t bother to remember. What was the point, if he didn’t know where to go anyway? He knew that staying this close to the main road meant more chance for the Lab people to find him, but his feet were hurting too much to stay in the woods, and on the bright side, closer to the main road would mean more chance to run into someone with food, which was definitely better since he was too hungry and tired now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The longer he walked, the more he wondered if running away had been the right decision after all. Sure, they might have held him against his will ever since he could remember, and sure, he always hated the needles and basically half the things they did to him, but the other half wasn’t that bad. He had a bed to sleep in, three meals a day, and he didn’t have to walk for the entire day with an empty stomach. He didn’t even have a plan right now, and in hindsight, one shouldn’t have run away without one — or at least without thinking of where to sleep and eat. That was dumb of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of a bell made him turn around to someone approaching on a bike. It was quite dark, so he didn’t get to see much other than the bright headlight, but one thing he could tell was the size of the vehicle. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A kid’s bike. That’s good. Kid’s bike means whoever it is, they’re not from the Lab.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, dude,” a boy’s voice said to him before the guy got close enough for him to take a look. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ten looked at the kid but didn’t say anything. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This guy has to realize how ridiculous his question was, right?</span>
  </em>
  <span> How would anyone in his shoes — figuratively, since he didn’t have any — be okay? ‘Okay’ would probably look like the raven-haired boy staring at him, wearing a raincoat, riding his bike home from wherever it was. ‘Okay’ wouldn’t be walking barefoot at night under the rain towards an undetermined location with a rumbling stomach — although the guy probably didn’t know about his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you going?” The kid asked again, to which he only replied with a shrug. He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know where he’d come from. He definitely didn’t know where he was heading.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you in trouble?” The guy didn’t seem to be deterred by the lack of a verbal response and kept asking. He stared back at Bicycle Boy for a moment before giving him a curt nod. The people at the Lab were definitely looking for him now, and if he returned, there would undoubtedly be a punishment waiting for him. He definitely shouldn’t have run away without thinking things through like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hop on,” Bicycle Boy said again, making Ten’s eyes widened in surprise. When he didn’t move, the guy let out an exasperated sigh. “C’mon, I can clearly tell you’re running from someone. I’m not just gonna leave you here like this. Maybe I can hide you in my basement. If you want, we can call the police from my house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was pretty clear from the staring contest that the other boy wouldn’t just leave him here and pretend he didn’t see anything. The guy didn’t look like he was luring him into a trap either, although he supposed if a trap looked like a trap, that wouldn’t be much of a trap at all. Still, he was pretty tired already, and he didn’t even have a plan for the next thirty minutes. Being recaptured probably wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to him anyway. With a sigh, he approached the bike, getting a smile from the raven-haired boy as a result.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t talk a lot, do you?” Bicycle Boy asked, to which he only gave another shrug as a response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>True to the boy’s words, they were now in a basement — a quite warm and cozy one as well. There were a lot of shelves and a couch by a wall, with lots of tables, chairs, and cushions everywhere which made it feel like the place was used quite often — maybe by this guy and his friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you even talk at all?” The boy asked again and got a scoff as a response. “Well, excuse me for asking that, but you never said a word to me so how am I supposed to know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can talk,” he grumbled. “I’m just tired.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were drying themselves off, or more precisely, the raven-haired boy was drying himself off, which didn’t take too much effort, while Ten was standing here trying not to drip water everywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long had you been walking? Oh great, we’re back to shrugging now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shot the other boy a glare. Granted, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> about to shrug, but his shoulders had barely raised before this guy reacted. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “Ten hours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Bicycle Boy’s eyes widened before he turned around and started rummaging a box under the stairs. “That’s a long walk. Your feet okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were definitely not okay. His feet — or his entire body, for that matter — felt like they could use a nice warm bath until they became completely crinkled. That was another good thing about the Lab — warm baths. He didn’t say any of those thoughts out loud, though, and it didn’t seem like the boy was expecting one either when he turned back shortly after with something in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think my clothes will fit you, but this might,” Bicycle Boy said. “You’ll get sick if you stay in your clothes. The boxers are probably a bit tight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that?” Ten asked. Whatever it was, it was covered in fur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just my old Halloween costume,” the boy shrugged, blushing a little. “It’s a Chewbacca onesie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That word didn’t really mean anything to him, but he supposed that conversation could wait. “Thanks,” he mumbled and took the onesie — whatever that meant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bathroom’s over there,” the raven-haired boy pointed towards a door. “You can take a shower if you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ten gave the other boy a curt nod before heading towards the bathroom, closing the door behind him. This was definitely a first for him. Sure, when reading the scientists’ memories, he’d learned that most people didn’t have armed security around them when they took showers, but that had always been his life, and he’d never expected anything different. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This is different. This is nice. And the water is warm, too.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” the boy’s voice came from the other side of the door, “you never told me your name. I’m Mike. What about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question gave him a pang in his chest. For as long as he could remember, Papa had always called him Ten. He’d thought it was his name for a while until he’d learned that it was a number, and people didn’t have numbers for names. He was Ten because nobody bothered to give him a name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” Bicycle Boy — Mike — asked. “Did you fall asleep in there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just Ten,” he mumbled the answer. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No name, just a number.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The boy had been kind to him so far, so the least he could do was give the guy his number.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, nice to meet you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dustin.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I’ll go grab you a towel, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mike had no way of knowing this — of course not — but Ten’s heart skipped a beat at the guy’s words. He’d never had a proper name before. Even if that name was the offspring of his lisp, his mumbling, and the acoustics of the bathroom combined before going through a wooden door, it was still one thousand times better than </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ten.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It would probably take too much effort to correct the raven-haired boy anyway, and then he’d have to navigate around the reason why he never really had a name, especially since Mike would probably be the only one calling him anything anyway. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And I like that name.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” he cleared his throat and said eventually, realizing too late that the other boy had probably left already.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Mike returned to the basement for the second time with his dinner — well, he supposed it was both their dinner tonight — Dustin was sitting on the couch, closing his eyes and holding his Halloween candy bag, which he’d been using to hold snacks anyway. “I see you’ve found my sweet stash,” he chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” the other boy mumbled and slowly opened his eyes. “I didn’t mean to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Mike interrupted. “We can have some after dinner if you want. I don’t think this is enough for both of us anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even though he still couldn’t see it, if how his mom saw him in those overalls was how he thought Dustin looked, then it made sense that the woman had taken so many pictures of him in that. The whole situation was pretty cute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hope you like meatloaf,” the raven-haired boy grinned. “My mom makes good meatloaf. Not as good as Mrs. Byers, though, but don’t tell her I said that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The curly-haired boy furrowed his eyebrows and stared at Mike, and for a moment he thought he’d said something wrong. “I’m not going to tell anyone,” Dustin said quizzically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Never mind,” Mike snorted. “It was a joke.” From what he’d guessed about the other boy, Dustin didn’t have a lot of social skills. In fact, the boy didn’t seem like he was used to talking to other people, and he didn’t understand jokes either. Not to mention, when he’d first seen the other boy, he could notice the blood on the guy’s face despite him being in the rain for practically forever. And even now… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Dustin? Your nose is bleeding again,” the raven-haired boy pointed out, and the blue-eyed boy immediately wiped his nose with the overall sleeve. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call anyone? I can ask my mom to do it,” he offered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The curly-haired boy shook his head. “It’s not safe,” he mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But my mom will know who to call,” Mike tried to reason. “She won’t get you in trouble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not safe for you,” Dustin said cryptically before turning away, clearly not wanting to continue discussing this topic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Mike sighed, “I won’t tell her.” He still had no idea how he was gonna pull off sharing food with the boy every day if the guy didn’t want him to tell anyone, but maybe he should work things out one day at a time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s this?” Dustin asked, holding out a candy bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three Musketeers?” Mike raised an eyebrow. “It’s basically nougat and chocolate. It’s not that good, that’s why there are so many left.” It was clear to Mike from the way the other boy examined his sweet stash that the guy had a sweet tooth. “C’mon, let’s have dinner first,” he snapped the blue-eyed boy from his train of thought. “I brought chocolate pudding as well.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is definitely the shortest chapter I've ever written (not counting prologues). Nevertheless, tell me what you think in the comments. Much appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Gonna</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi folks, and welcome back to the second chapter of this! It's been a while but I hope you're still gonna enjoy the story.</p><hr/><p>Chapter beta'd by @<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/castrateyourhumanpride">castrateyourhumanpride</a> and @<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewasthewind/">shewasthewind</a>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Ten was wandering around Mike’s basement. He’d woken up an hour ago when someone — possibly Mike’s mom — started making a ruckus in the kitchen. He couldn’t exactly leave through the back door since he had enough common sense to know that the onesie he was wearing would attract too much attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Last night, Mike had given him a tour of the basement, after sneaking a couple of blankets down for him to use at night. He’d been introduced to a box of Mike’s old toys, from which he’d taken out a worn teddy bear to hug at night. Apparently, Mike loved that teddy bear, because it was a birthday present from someone named Will, but he had to put it down here because his dad had said </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘sixth graders don’t play with teddy bears’</span>
  </em>
  <span> or something similar. Of all the names he’d heard yesterday, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Will</span>
  </em>
  <span> had shown up the most, with Mike showing him all the </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘cool drawings’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Will had given him. As far as he could tell, that guy was the closest to Mike. The other names he’d heard more than once were </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lucas, Nancy, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Holly.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The last two were Mike’s sisters, while Lucas often showed up next to Will in a sentence before Mike told him about something funny or crazy they did, so maybe they were his friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some of the aforementioned drawings were taped on the walls, but most of them were in a folder on the bookshelf, next to a box of dice and figurines and all kinds of paper. Mike had told him about that — a game he usually played with his friends — and explained animatedly to him for about half an hour. He still didn’t understand a lot of what he’d heard, but from what he could tell, it did sound interesting. Maybe he’d ask the boy to explain to him again later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Also on the bookshelf, there was a model of a Millennium Falcon, whatever that was, and several books that Mike really loved, and insisted that if 010 wanted to, he had to read in a specific order. Last night, he’d gotten to the part about a village full of creatures called </span>
  <em>
    <span>hobbits</span>
  </em>
  <span> before falling asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The raven-haired boy had told him that he’d be down as soon as he could in the morning, but normally he’d have to wait for his dad to go to work, and his mom to take Holly shopping with her, and Nancy to go hang out with Barb. He hadn’t asked the boy to elaborate since whether he knew it didn’t really affect his schedule.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Mike’s voice drew his attention towards the stairs, where the boy was descending with a tray of food in his hands. “Sorry for making you wait. Mom doesn’t let me use the stove yet, so I made you a sandwich.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Ten mumbled as he accepted the tray. Other than the sandwich, there was also a glass of milk and a banana. This was already better than everything he could’ve hoped for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait here,” the boy grinned. “I’ll get you something to change into. I have an idea,” he said before sprinting up the stairs and disappearing behind the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last time Ten had had an idea, he’d ended up walking barefoot in the rain for ten hours. He just hoped Mike was better than him at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as he finished the sandwich, the raven-haired boy walked down the stairs with what he assumed to be fresh clothes. “My sweatpants might fit you, but you’re a bit bigger than me, so let’s hope you can wear my sister’s boyfriend’s T-shirt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holly?” Ten asked as he accepted the clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No!” Mike made a face. “Nancy’s boyfriend. Holly is </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> too young to think about that.” The boy’s eyes then moved to the food tray, which was now empty save for the banana. “Well, you know where the bathroom is. I’ll put this in the sink,” he said and put the banana on the table before carrying the rest to the kitchen, as Ten left to change out of his current clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he came back shortly after with the onesie in his hand, Mike was already waiting for him. “Not bad,” the boy hummed. “Steve’s T-shirt is a bit big on you, but at least it’s better than my dad’s clothes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ten had to admit, it was big, but not too big, so if anyone looked at him, he could pass for someone who was wearing hand-me-down clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So Dustin, what do you want to do today?” Mike asked. “Normally I’d hang out with Lucas and Will, but Lucas is at summer camp, and Will told me yesterday that he has to visit his grandma today and tomorrow. I guess it’s just you and me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ten frowned slightly at the question. “What do you usually do?” He had no idea what a typical child his age would do on a free day, but he knew for sure they didn’t do what he normally did — became a lab rat — or what the scientists normally did — do experiments on lab rats like him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess we can go to the park, the arcade, the mall,” the raven-haired boy mumbled. “We could get ice cream if I could borrow Nancy’s money, but she always knows whenever I’m in her room, and I don’t want to be grounded again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had no plan to stay in Mike’s basement for the rest of his life, but currently, he didn’t even know where he was, so maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to go out and gather more information before deciding what to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mike! Are you down there?” A woman’s voice came from the top of the stairs, followed by the sound of footsteps, and their eyes both went wide as they realized how much trouble they were in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit!” Mike cursed under his breath. “My mom’s back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mike! I’m gonna take Holly to—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman stopped in her tracks the moment her eyes landed on Ten, who didn’t have enough time to hide. “Mike?” She said warily. “Who’s that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom,” the raven-haired boy raised his hands, “I can explain everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ten still felt like fleeing, but he knew that would most likely put Mike in trouble, and put him back in the Lab.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mike’s mom’s eyes were darting back and forth between him and her son, before finally landing on the latter, silently telling him to start talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Dustin,” the other boy bit his lips. “I ran into him yesterday. He was hurt and alone in the rain, and he was running away from someone. I didn’t know what to do, so I told him to come with me because at least he won’t be cold and wet anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman waited for her son to finish before turning her attention back to Ten, as if asking whether he had anything to add to the story, while he was still trying to slow his heart down. It was a lot more difficult to control his powers when he was distraught, and the last thing he needed right now was for her to freak out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Mike’s mom finally said and turned around. “If that’s the case, I think it’s best to contact Social Services and let them help him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But mom,” Mike protested, “he said that—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, Mike,” she interrupted, “they’re equipped to deal with these things. They can help him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait! Please,” Ten called and ran after the woman as she went up the stairs, grabbing her hand just as she was about to leave the basement. He knew what would happen if any of them contacted the government. He’d seen it in the scientists’ memories. The Lab would intercept the call. They would send out a squad with guns, and then a clean-up crew. The people making the call would never be heard from again. He couldn’t let that happen to the family of the only person who’d helped him so far.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moment his hand touched Mike’s mom, he could feel his power slipping out of his hold, and his eyes started glowing bright blue as images started filling his mind with a splitting headache.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>Wheeler. Karen. Ted. Nancy. Mike. Holly. Cooking. Drinking. Holly. Phone. Mike. Holly. More drinking. Nancy. Goodbye kisses on the cheek. Mike making a face. Holly laughing. Cooking. Drinking. Nancy leaving the dining table. Ted snoring. More boys. Will. Lucas. Holly crying. Cooking.</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ten tried to control his powers. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stop this! Stop reading!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He gritted his teeth and forced his brain to focus on the most recent memories. </span>
  <b>Shopping. Holly’s playdate. Coming down the stairs.</b>
  <em>
    <span> Stop!</span>
  </em>
  <span> His eyes started glowing red instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just came home from the grocery store,” Ten said slowly, looking into Karen Wheeler’s eyes, which had also started mirroring his. “You walked to the basement door to tell Mike that you’ll take Holly to the McGranger because she has a playdate.” His head felt like someone was trying to open it with a chainsaw. “You told him there’s a casserole in the fridge for lunch, and that you won’t be home until late. You didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel his powers trying to break free once again, so he let go of her hand. As his eyes returned to normal, hers were still glowing for another second before they also stopped, and she turned around, walking up the stairs without looking back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, Mike, I’m going now,” Karen called from the kitchen. “Remember, your lunch is in the fridge. Nancy should be back by then, but just in case, be careful with the oven. Bye, honey!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With his head now feeling like someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> opened it, Ten turned around and was unsurprisingly met with the utterly shocked expression on Mike’s face. “At least she’s not gonna call anybody,” he managed to say before everything went black.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike was in way over his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure, he’d thought he’d been in trouble before, but this definitely took the cake. Earlier, he’d been hiding an admittedly cute boy who was clearly running away from someone and who had refused to get help. He’d been worried about having to sneak food for the boy for the rest of his life or having twice the amount of dirty laundry for his mom to do. Now, the previous statement was still true, but he’d learned that the boy could also Obi-Wan his way out of situations with glowing red eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dustin had collapsed almost immediately as if he was a puppet and his strings had been cut, and although Mike was proud to say he was barely fast enough to catch the boy, he was nowhere near strong enough to stop the momentum. As a result, he’d fallen on his back, as an unconscious boy with a nosebleed landed on top of him. Just one of the things he’d never thought would happen, and definitely not how he would want it to be if he'd thought about it beforehand. That had been fifteen minutes ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The curly-haired boy was now lying on the couch, with Mike sitting just in front of it, making sure the guy wouldn’t choke on his own blood — even if the nosebleed didn’t look that severe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Dustin stirred and winced before letting out a quiet groan. “That hurt,” the guy mumbled and opened his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, well, you looked like you were in pain,” Mike said quietly. “You have a lot of explaining to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So the guy started talking. Dustin talked about secret government organizations whose main purpose was to create weapons for the upcoming war. He talked about how he was one of those weapons, how he could ‘read’ people’s memories with a single touch and ‘sort of alter’ them. He talked about how he’d lived in a lab since before he could remember, what they’d done to him there daily, and how he’d escaped. He talked about all the events that had led him to this very moment on the couch, and it was ridiculous to see how calm Mike was, hearing those crazy things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“ — and I just couldn’t let her make the call,” Dustin sighed. “If she did, you and your family would just simply disappear, and I can’t let that happen to someone who’d helped me </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now it kind of made sense how Mike had found the boy on the side of the road yesterday, shoeless and lost. It kind of made sense how Dustin didn’t have any skills interacting with another human being. It made sense how the boy didn’t want him to ask anyone for help. It made sense, but it didn’t make his options any clearer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know,” Mike mumbled, “that was the most you’ve said since we first met.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I owe you way more than that,” the blue-eyed boy sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what do you plan to do now?” The raven-haired boy asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Dustin admitted. “Maybe I’ll go to the library and find anything I can use to help me hide from them. I’ll leave your family alone, and they’ll never have a reason to touch you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That did sound like a good plan. That plan was already better than anything Mike had thought of in the last twelve hours. He wouldn’t be able to help the boy in any way another person couldn’t, and this way, his life would return to normal again.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So why do I hate it?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Mike made a face at the idea. How had he already gotten attached to someone he’d just met yesterday? How had he already felt like Dustin was his responsibility, just because he’d offered help? Why was he considering not taking the out the other boy had clearly given him?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe it’s because he trusts me. Or maybe…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forget it,” Mike grumbled. “I promised I’d help you, and promises are sacred to me. Plus, what if it takes some time to find what you need? You’re gonna have to rest somewhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you’re gonna be in danger,” the other boy protested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not if we’re careful,” Mike countered. “Look, Dustin, if you get caught again, they’re probably gonna be able to trace back here anyway. Our best option is to make sure that never happens, and you’re gonna need all the help you can get.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blue-eyed boy made a face but couldn’t find a counterargument. “That’s not my name, you know,” he mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? But you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back there, they don’t give us names,” the boy shrugged. “Just numbers.” He pulled his watch down to reveal a mark on his wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, not a mark. A tattoo. 010.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t have a name,” the guy shook his head. “I’m just this. Just Ten.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mike carefully took his friend’s wrist and examined the tattoo. It wasn’t very big, but it was still right there. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Like branding animals.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could’ve sworn you said Dustin,” he huffed and let go of his friend’s — </span>
  <em>
    <span>are we even friends now? — </span>
  </em>
  <span>wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I know what I said,” the boy rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I still think Dustin is better than Ten,” Mike said stubbornly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course it’s better,” the curly-haired boy scoffed. “But it’s still not my name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Says who?” Mike raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have a name yet. You like that name. So from now on, that’s your name. You’re Dustin. Try to remember it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Is it because I named him, then?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy was staring at him, so Mike stared right back, hoping to convey that he wouldn’t back down. Eventually, his friend caved and rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’m Dustin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was his eyes playing tricks on him, but he thought he saw Dustin’s lips twitch when saying that. “Nice to meet you again, Dustin,” Mike grinned. “So, the library?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, what do you think about this? Let me know in the comments!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Give</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm not even sure who's interested in this in the first place, let alone who is still interested after I disappeared for a billion years, but if you're still here, welcome to the next chapter of 010.</p><p>Originally, this was supposed to be twice as long, but I found a way to cut it into two chapters instead. Hence, the increase in chapter count.</p><p>Anyway, enjoy!</p><hr/><p>Chapter beta'd by @<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/castrateyourhumanpride">castrateyourhumanpride</a>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“ — and then Lucas accidentally let go, and the rock flew right into the street lamp in front of the Blackburns’,” Mike said animatedly, or as animatedly as one could while riding a bike with someone else behind them. “Man, we got grounded for like a week because of that. Well, not Will, but apparently I came up with the idea, and Lucas was the one doing it, so we both got grounded. I mean, I’m glad Will wasn’t in trouble, because let’s face it, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell us he didn’t think it was a good idea, but it’s not like we wanted to break the lamp either, so it was totally unfair.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you guys just accidentally aimed at the lamp?” Dustin asked in an amused tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We didn’t aim at the lamp,” Mike protested. “I told him to aim at the sky. I was being responsible!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were biking to the library. Well, Mike was. Dustin was sitting behind him and doing his best not to make them both fall whenever the guy shifted. It was a hot and lazy day in Hawkins, too lazy that not even the ice cream truck wanted to play its music — or perhaps all the kids in the neighborhood had already bought all the ice cream by 9am. After all, it was surprising to think that only the previous night, the sky had been pouring rain. Today, without a single cloud in the sky, the sun, like the burning ball of fire it was, scorched the earth and anyone who walked on it, undoubtedly prompting everyone to crave something cold. Most people were probably either indoors or at the public pool right now, playing with their friends or family. Mike probably would’ve gone to the pool as well if Lucas and Will had been around. </span>
  <em>
    <span>And if Dustin hadn’t been around.</span>
  </em>
  <span> If he was being honest, he probably would’ve dragged the other two to the library as well if they were here right now, since they were his best friends and he wouldn’t do anything without them, and also because he and Dustin would need all the help they could get.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But his parents didn’t take the wrist rocket away?” The curly-haired boy behind him asked, and Mike could feel a grin forming on his lips. When he’d mentioned the wrist rocket, Dustin had been quite confused, but upon hearing the description, the guy had immediately gone </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Oh, like a slingshot?’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Mike had told him that technically they were different, and wrist rockets sounded a lot cooler than slingshots. It was nice to see his friend was on board with that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, they didn’t,” Mike shook his head. “But they did forbid us from playing with them on the street, or in the house, or in the park, or at school, or basically everywhere they could think of.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So how did you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was this junkyard,” the raven-haired boy explained, “near the quarry, and kind of near Will’s house. We can shoot things there without worrying about breaking anything since everything there is already broken. It’s isolated from the rest of the town, so we don’t have to worry about running into Troy and James there either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Troy and James?” Dustin asked, and that was when Mike realized he’d slipped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So far, he’d only told the blue-eyed boy about all the cool and fun stuff he’d done with his friends — or at least everything he considered ‘cool’. He wanted Dustin to think he was cool, that he was worth hanging out with. Somehow, he wanted the other boy’s stamp of approval. That was why he’d never mentioned the name-calling and the bullying he and his friends had endured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re nobody,” he tried to explain without making him sound like a weak pathetic kid who got picked on daily, even when it kind of was the case. “Just some jerks at school. They’re just bullies who think they’re these big bad kids because they pick on weaker kids. Wait, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>weaker,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but like—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They sound like assholes,” Dustin interrupted, almost making Mike choke on air.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Assholes,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the black-haired boy thought with a chuckle. He’d overheard Nancy say it before — usually when she was talking about somebody else with Barb — but he’d never heard another kid his age say it. Of course, considering how many friends he had, and how popular they were at school, that wasn’t too surprising. It wasn’t like he and his friends never swore, but usually, they stopped at ‘shit’. Then again, according to what Dustin had said, he’d never had parents to reprimand him about it, so it wasn’t like he could get in </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> kind of trouble either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, they are, aren’t they?” Mike hummed. “Assholes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The biggest assholes,” Dustin said firmly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Troy and James are assholes!” Mike exclaimed. He was weirdly proud of himself for saying it out loud, although he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was because he’d reached a new ‘level’ of rebellion with his foul mouth, which would definitely get him grounded for at least a month if his mom heard him. It could also be because that had been his first act of resistance against the bullies — albeit behind their backs and with no audience save for Dustin. Or maybe, he was proud of saying it out loud because that had made Dustin break out in laughter, which in turn had made </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> laugh, even if that did make the rest of the ride slightly more difficult with two shaking almost-teenagers on a bike. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His new friend was nice and funny — not that Will and Lucas weren’t, but they were a different kind of funny — and had quite a mouth. In Mike’s book, whoever wanted to lock the guy up and run tests on him had to be evil. Which meant, the government was evil. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Our government,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The government, who Dad always said would protect us, is evil.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Only if his dad knew about this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Mike and Dustin got to the library, they had already calmed down enough not to giggle every three seconds, which was good because the curly-haired boy had told him the government could have people anywhere, and they definitely didn’t want to attract attention. However, before they could get in, Dustin grabbed his hand, stopping him in his tracks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never asked me,” the boy said quietly as he looked into Mike’s eyes like he was trying to find something there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Asked you what?” There were probably a lot of things he should’ve asked, but with the amount of info he’d just been exposed to, he didn’t know where to start, or if he should even start at all. Besides, if it had been him, he probably wouldn’t have liked reliving those memories too much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Asked me if I used my powers on you,” Dustin said and let go of his hand as he looked down at his shoes. Well, technically they were Mike’s shoes, but since the curly-haired boy didn’t have any, and his weren’t terribly uncomfortable, he gave them to his friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh, I guess I didn’t,” Mike hummed. “Doesn’t matter. I would’ve known if you had.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you wouldn’t,” Dustin shook his head. “That’s why they want me. I can make people do things and they won’t even think they’re being controlled.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’re saying you turned me into this person who wants to help people I find on the side of the road looking clearly like they’re in trouble?” Mike raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That could’ve happened!” The other boy protested, his ears turning red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you clearly did me a favor,” the raven-haired boy rolled his eyes. “I want to be someone who helps people in need. I think I always have, but if I wasn’t like that and you made me so, you clearly made me a better person.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What if I tricked you in some other way?” His friend clearly still hadn’t given up on this topic, although Mike had no idea why. Shouldn’t the guy </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to be doubted? “What if I made you think I needed help when I actually didn’t? What if I made you think you offered—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dustin!” Mike interrupted, slightly annoyed at the fact that the other guy was trying to put thoughts in his head. “I trust you, okay? I don’t know why, I just feel like I can. If you had done that, you wouldn’t have screwed yourself up by pointing it out right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That had momentarily shut the blue-eyed boy up, but Mike could see in his eyes that Dustin was still trying to find a way to come back. He definitely had to stop that. “Look,” he cleared his throat, “I want to help you. That’s it. If you don’t want my help, go ahead and use your powers on me, but stop trying to make me think I didn’t actually want to help you. Deal?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dustin looked at him unblinking for a while before finally letting out a sigh. “Fine. What are we doing here anyway?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That had definitely taken Mike aback. “What do you mean? You were the one suggesting going to the library.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because in the scientists’ minds, the library always has the information they’re looking for,” the curly-haired boy explained. “But </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t know what we’re looking for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then how the hell am I supposed to know?” Mike asked incredulously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because you’re the library expert?” Dustin scrunched his nose. “I’ve never </span>
  <em>
    <span>been</span>
  </em>
  <span> in one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you were trying not to let me help you?” Mike raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t—!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you were!”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luckily for them, they weren’t completely clueless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of all the memories Dustin had about the lab, the name of the organization was probably among the most useful information, along with the names of the scientists. Mike had suggested looking up all of them in the newspaper, and that was what they’d been doing. There was a computer in this library as well, but Mike didn’t know how to use one, and although Dustin had seen the scientists use them plenty of times in their memories, he didn’t actually understand any of the things he’d seen, at least not enough to be useful. As a result, they’d been scanning newspaper after newspaper for hours now, trying to find anything they could use.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So far, they’d only found bad news. Well, one bad news, but that was still bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lab he’d been kept in had belonged to the Department of Energy, which, just as his luck would have it, also had another facility just on the outskirts of this town. That meant he had been right under their noses all this time, and they could’ve just reached out and grabbed him, as well as Mike’s entire family, without even breaking a sweat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mike didn’t share Dustin’s concern. Or rather, the boy refused to share his concern. His friend was pretty adamant about not changing his mind, and he didn’t want to use his powers like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think that’s enough for today,” Dustin said after realizing he’d spaced out. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> been doing this for a while, and he was getting kind of hungry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Mike raised an eyebrow but stood up immediately, which made him wonder whether the other boy was also waiting for him to suggest having a break. “Do you wanna get out of here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” the curly-haired boy nodded. The scientists used to leave the lab and go somewhere when they couldn’t find a solution to something, so maybe they also needed that. “Where do you wanna go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want some ice cream?” Mike asked as they started walking out of the library.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you said you didn’t want to get in trouble?” Dustin raised an eyebrow. He believed his friend had mentioned something about borrowing money and being grounded if they wanted to get ice cream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My allowance is enough for one person,” Mike shrugged like it was nothing. “I’ve had ice cream before, so I want you to try it as well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” The blue-eyed boy couldn’t help but frown. He might not have ever lived in the same world as Mike, but he knew enough about money to know that the black-haired boy had definitely just made some kind of sacrifice for him. “I don’t need to try it or any—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> to try ice cream,” Mike interrupted. “It’s the best thing in the world, especially when it’s hot outside.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even better than nougat?” Dustin raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Even—’</span>
  </em>
  <span>” The other boy sent him a scandalous look. “Of course it’s better than nougat. What kind of comparison is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dustin didn’t exactly have a frame of reference so he just nodded as if what Mike had said made sense to him. The lab usually just gave him ration bars or vitamins, and even on special occasions, the food didn’t look like anything he’d seen in the scientists’ memories, and he was certain it didn’t taste like any of those either. He supposed he’d have to trust the boy’s judgment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scanning the area around the library, he spotted a single ice cream truck being parked under a big tree, probably also hiding from the sun like everyone else. However, as he took one step towards it, he was pulled back by none other than Mike.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re out of ice cream,” his friend explained, dragging him towards the bike. “My mom said they turn off the music when they’re out of ice cream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that even possible?” Dustin asked. “That is a big truck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not filled with ice cream or anything,” Mike shrugged, “no matter how much you want it to be. And I guess everyone wants ice cream in this kind of weather? The truck in the morning was also out, and it wasn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> late yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Note to self,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought,</span>
  <em>
    <span> everyone in this world is obsessed with ice cream.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dustin couldn’t deny that it also made him a bit curious as well since there had to be some truth if the whole world agreed on an opinion. “So where are we going, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Downtown,” Mike replied as he gestured for Dustin to hop on his bike. “We need to find a truck that’s not out of ice cream yet. I don’t have enough to go to a shop, so that’ll have to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dustin hummed in response before letting his mind wander. Of course, he’d seen ice cream in people’s memories before, but that was more like watching a movie or reading a book about it. He still had no idea how it tasted like, although the </span>
  <em>
    <span>ice</span>
  </em>
  <span> part suggested that it would probably be cold, which was definitely needed in this kind of weather.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he’d thought it had been hot in the morning, then right now, when it was around 1 o’clock, would’ve been torturous. He could feel the heat coming not just from above, but also from the road, burning his face and making his eyes dry no matter where he looked. Nobody, and he really meant nobody, even wanted to look out their windows, let alone riding outside like Mike and him and that—</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mike?” Dustin tapped his friend’s shoulder. “I think we need to run.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Why?” The raven-haired boy asked without looking back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The ice cream truck is following us.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>They found me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” Mike cursed before taking a sharp turn and running off-road.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was following them, alright. The moment Mike sped up, the truck also started moving faster. As his friend maneuvered across town, taking shortcuts here and there, the driver also tried to cut them off. They probably would’ve been cornered by now if there had been multiple trucks following them — which was a bit weird since he’d never seen the lab send less than three trucks on a retrieval mission before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was definitely not a pleasant ride. The other boy was obviously familiar with the neighborhood since he kept turning left and right where there weren’t roads, running past several playgrounds, and up two hills. Dustin couldn’t do anything but hold on tight and hope that he wouldn’t fall, since they definitely couldn’t afford that. The two of them had lost the truck a couple of times, but it always came back, and whenever it did, Mike took another sharp turn where it couldn’t follow in an attempt to either lose it once again or to finally knock Dustin off the bike.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They only managed to disappear once Mike rode into the woods and along the old train tracks, since there was no way any truck, ice cream or otherwise, could follow them </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> deep. That didn’t mean the raven-haired boy stopped as soon as their stalkers failed to keep up. They kept going, although this time at a much slower pace since Dustin’s butt definitely wouldn’t like the idea of speeding in this type of terrain, and he figured Mike was also getting tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, they stopped when they got to where he recognized as the junkyard Mike had told him about. There were less than a dozen cars scattered around, a long bus that looked like it hadn’t been used in years, under which were a lot of empty cans that were probably used as targets for Mike’s friend and his wrist rocket. The place was definitely spacious and remote, and not somewhere people would come to look for children — at least not the ones that were alive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mike shoved the bike carelessly under the bus, next to those cans, before getting inside and motioning for Dustin to come with him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And they waited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was definitely not the best idea, hiding inside what was essentially a metal cage when it was a million degrees outside, but it was probably the best idea either of them could’ve come up with. He could feel the temperature of the bus through his shoes and his pants — although they were technically Mike’s stuff — and he was eternally grateful for not going barefoot at the moment. The raven-haired boy had pulled him onto the bus floor, probably to hide from anyone who had been hunting them, and they’d been staring at each other with wide eyes, listening and waiting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Had they been followed since they’d left Mike’s house that morning, or had the people in the ice cream truck only spotted him after the library? Were those people even from the lab? He knew the lab’s preferred vehicles. For transferring assets, they would use three government-issued black cars, with four agents on each. The asset in question, which happened to be him last time, would be put in the second car. Sometimes, Papa would be one of the people in the second car. For staking out missions, or cleaning up missions, or any other mission basically, they would use the standard van with the Department of Energy logo on its side. Every van could have any number of agents from six to a dozen. There usually were weapons in each van, enough to arm everyone in it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not once in his life, or in the lives of any of the scientists whose minds he’d read, had he seen a van disguised as an ice cream truck like this. However, if they’d been following them like that, he couldn’t think of any other explanation. After all, to the rest of the world, he didn’t exist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wait was long and tiring, especially in this heat. Occasionally, there would be a dog barking in the distance, or a bird would call out for its friend, or the wind would start blowing, making the trees sing in relief and painfully reminding Dustin of what they could’ve gotten if they hadn’t been trapped in this bus. Other than an abrupt loud sound that Mike had assured him was the sound of metal expanding in this heat, there was absolutely nothing going on outside. It was so tiring that he’d even imagined hearing a single footstep just to have something to worry about and not focus all his senses on Mike. That did work for a little while, but eventually, his mind came back to the boy in front of him, to the quiet sound of his breathing, the faint scent of Mike in the air, the faded freckles on his face contrasted with his own pale skin tone which somehow made his dark brown eyes more captivating, the beads of sweat on his forehead slowly—</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Okay, I’m drifting again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think we’re safe?” Dustin whispered after a while. He didn’t really know how long they’d been sitting there, but this heat made him feel like it had been years. From the sweats on his friend’s eyebrows, the other boy probably felt the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Mike shook his head. “Maybe they didn’t follow us after we got off the road? Or maybe they went the other direction? Or maybe they just didn’t see us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dustin chanced a glance at the window, but there wasn’t anything he saw that indicated anyone was searching for them. The people from the lab would definitely not be this secretive, especially since there was nobody around even if they made a ruckus, so maybe they were in the clear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll come out and check,” the blue-eyed boy suggested before standing up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? No! Are you crazy?” Mike immediately protested. “What if they’re still out there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t stay here forever,” Dustin pointed out. As proof, both their stomachs decided to rumble at that very moment, saving the black-haired boy from having to respond immediately, but filling the silence between them with awkward sounds.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Mike grumbled, “but I’m coming with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he slowly got off the bus, Dustin finally got the chance to look around. The junkyard wasn’t too big — definitely not the kind of junkyard where people could get lost in — but it was definitely spacious enough for three kids to have all kinds of fun, especially if those kids had a great imagination. From the stories, he already knew Mike had one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a car about thirty feet from the bus with all its windows broken. He wondered if Mike’s friend Lucas and the infamous wrist rocket were behind that. Another red car was about thirty feet to the right of that one, but with the windows intact. That probably wouldn’t be the best car to hide in, since other than the fact that he could spot anyone in either the front or back seat, and both of them couldn’t sit on the floor like they’d done in the bus, windows up meant the air inside was probably even hotter than the worst thing he’d felt today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Mike let out a yelp.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, like it? Hate it? Saw some mistakes I should fix (even the cursed <em>your/you're</em>)? Let me know in the comments!</p><p>I already finished writing this fic, so depending on my mood swing, I might just go "fuck it" and post the rest before they get approved, go sit in a corner, and hate myself. At least you'll still get something to read (even if it's shitty).</p><p>Anyway, until next chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Welcome back to this cursed chapter of 010.</p><p>I accidentally hit "Post chapter", so... <br/>Enjoy!</p><hr/><p>Chapter beta'd by @<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/castrateyourhumanpride">castrateyourhumanpride</a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It felt like time stopped the moment Mike let out a yelp behind Dustin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d been hunted by the government since yesterday morning. He and Mike had been followed all day. They’d run away from a huge ice cream truck, on a bike of all things. They’d been hiding in the junkyard for what felt like hours. None of that was a good preface to this situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he turned around, Dustin’s eyes immediately landed on two blond grown men, one of them had an arm around his friend’s neck, holding him back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>told</span>
  </em>
  <span> you he looked like the description,” the other one said with a smirk. This one was holding a gun, which was pointing right at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them dressed like a government agent. The agents always wore black suits with white shirts, and they always wore earpieces and carried government-issued guns, none of which these two had. They were both wearing pink-and-white striped shirts, and they both had weird looking hats on their heads that definitely wouldn’t help them in this kind of sunlight, or in </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> kind of sunlight whatsoever. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Uniforms.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The gun also looked nothing like the government-issued guns the guys transporting him had carried. Last but not least, neither of them was wearing shoes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just check his wrist and cash in already,” the one behind Mike said in an annoyed tone. This one had a scar on his cheek that looked like someone had cut him with a knife. He’d call this one Scarface and the other one Gunner. They weren’t too creative, but he didn’t think anyone would judge him right now. “I don’t want to spend another moment in this shithole.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Cash in,’ he said,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dustin thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So they’re one of those people.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He’d learned from the scientists’ memories that, although the lab had enough resources to take care of a lot of things, doing that would usually require a lot of paperwork, and they would have to go through Papa as well. If they wanted to cover up something without incurring Papa’s wrath, they would use one of these local criminals. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bounty hunters, or something that starts with a ‘mer’ sound that I can’t remember right now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, the lab had found him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the first man — Gunner — took one step towards him, Dustin immediately took a step back. “Wait!” He cried. “You don’t want me to run away, do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two momentarily halted and turned towards each other. Since there were just two of them, it would be the perfect opportunity for him to run, especially when neither of them was focused on him right now. Of course, he still wouldn’t get very far, since there was no way he could beat an adult in a race unless they were being extremely whiny about running barefoot in the woods, so that wouldn’t help anyone at all. Not to mention…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t want to leave your friend behind, do you?” Scarface countered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was exactly why he couldn’t run. Mike was still trying to struggle to break free from the grasp of Scarface, but it didn’t look good. In fact, neither of them looked like they could get out of this situation unscathed unless he used his powers again, and even then, he had no idea how this thing would turn out, since the last time he did it, he ended up unconscious for fifteen minutes. He did not want to be unconscious around either of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I go with you willingly, do you promise not to hurt him?” Dustin asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dustin, n—!” Mike’s protest was quickly muffled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They don’t pay us to deliver him, do they?” Gunner answered. “You’re the only one with a price on your head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will you let him go then?” Dustin asked. He wanted to check on Mike, but it was definitely not a good idea to look away from the bigger threat in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gunner seemed to mull over the question before answering. “We’re keeping him to make sure neither of you tries anything funny, but after that, he’s free to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the sound, he could tell that Mike was trying to yell at him, telling him to run or something. There was no chance that was happening. The other boy had done everything for him: offering him a safe space to stay, food, clothes, help, company, and a lot more than he could ever ask for. Mike had </span>
  <em>
    <span>trusted</span>
  </em>
  <span> him. These were not government agents. They wouldn’t hurt Mike’s family if he got back. They wouldn’t hurt </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mike</span>
  </em>
  <span> if he got back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” Dustin mumbled, and the sound of Mike’s protest was even louder after that. The boy was definitely screaming now. It didn’t matter, though, since at least his friend would be safe, and that was his only goal at the moment. This was also probably the best deal he could ever ask for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gunner approached him and grabbed the back of his T-shirt, and his hand went to the guy’s wrist on instinct. That was when the images started flooding his mind, with so much force that he immediately closed his eyes shut and let out a groan. Sure, he’d been </span>
  <em>
    <span>a bit</span>
  </em>
  <span> agitated because Mike was in danger, but he hadn’t thought he’d lose control.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey! The fuck’s wrong with you?” He heard Gunner’s voice, but it sounded like it had come from outside of a bubble — a bubble made of this guy’s memories.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were only two of them, and they had been following him and Mike since morning, but they didn’t see where Mike had come from. They’d been sitting in the ice cream truck, watching the neighborhood when he and Mike had biked past them. They’d zeroed in on him and Mike even before Gunner had pointed out that Dustin looked like the description, which made him realize he probably should’ve gotten a hat or something. They’d waited outside the library for a couple of hours before their preys — Dustin and Mike in this case — had come out. They had briefly lost the two kids until Scarface had spotted Mike’s bike while walking along the train tracks, which had led to this very situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Going back a bit further, Dustin could see the two getting this assignment from a man wearing a lab coat sometime during the previous day. The price on his head was three million dollars, and the instruction was to bring him back to Michigan Lab alive, wherever that was. This meant these two probably weren’t from around here and had only gotten here by sheer luck when they’d chosen to head south. That also meant the lab in this town — Hawkins Lab — had no idea he was here, or at least not yet. That was definitely a good thing, since unlike these two, those people definitely had a way to find out where he’d come from, and this would’ve been an ambush at Mike’s place instead of in the middle of nowhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slipped back a little further, and what he saw almost made him puke. He saw the reason these criminals had picked an ice cream truck as their transportation, as well as the reason they’d paid attention to him and Mike in the first place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Children loved ice cream. That was the conclusion he’d come up with earlier. Apparently, some of them loved ice cream enough to get in the back of an ice cream truck for a special ice cream cone. He saw these two selling drugged up children to the highest bidder. He saw Scarface getting violent with any kid who resisted. He saw Gunner being the reason behind his nickname for Scarface. He saw horrible things he knew he could never forget, things that made him wish those kids had gotten kidnapped by the lab instead. At least he’d never been treated that way before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anger started to fill Dustin’s veins instead. These two had never planned to hold up their end of the deal. They’d never let Mike go. The moment he got brought back to the lab, Mike would be just another kid they’d gotten their hands on. They were gonna hurt his friend regardless. His grip on Gunner’s wrist strengthened, and in a weird-but-maybe-not way, the same thing could be said about his grip on his own powers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your friend killed me,” Dustin said without opening his eyes, imagining the image he wanted to put in Gunner’s head. His voice was definitely loud enough for Scarface to know he was saying something, but not enough for the kidnapper to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was saying. “You’re mad at your friend for killing me and losing you both three million dollars. You’re also terrified because he just painted a target on both your backs.” That part was probably true. After all, he was a dangerous weapon, built by the government to fight the commies in this war. “You’re gonna kill him,” the curly-haired boy said, spitting out the words like they were venom. “You’re gonna bury him in the woods like you buried every single kid he’d ever killed. After that, you’re gonna go east and call the lab, telling them you found traces of me heading west. You’re gonna forget ever setting foot in Hawkins.” Unlike the time with Mike’s mom, there was no head-splitting pain when he used his powers — only a dull ache. It was like the anger had given him clarity since he’d never felt more in control than at this very moment. “You’re gonna spend the rest of your life running from them. You’re never hurting another child again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he finally let go of Gunner’s wrist and looked into the guy’s eyes, those eyes were still glowing red. His captor slowly let him go before turning towards Scarface, whose eyes widened undoubtedly because of the unnatural look he was seeing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, what the—?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A loud gunshot made his ears ring.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike’s hands were still shaking, and he had no idea how to stop it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For the past couple of minutes, or hours, his life had gotten crazier than he, or anyone he knew for that matter, could’ve imagined. The guy holding Dustin had shot the guy holding him. He could feel something wet falling on his shoulder as the hand muffling him fell backward, almost pulling him back as well. However, he didn’t dare to look behind — not even when the guy with the gun walked past him and dragged his friend somewhere. He didn’t know how many hours had passed, but eventually, Dustin approached him and gently pulled him away. His friend’s nose was bleeding, he was also bleeding out of his ears, and his eyes were bloodshot. As soon as they sat down somewhere, the curly-haired boy immediately pulled him in for a hug, and just like that, everything came crashing down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so glad you didn’t get hurt,” Dustin mumbled against his shoulder. Any quieter and he wouldn’t have heard it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me?” Mike asked, his voice shaking and his arms wrapping around the other boy. “I wasn’t the one held at gunpoint. I wasn’t the one they wanted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, Mike,” the other boy shook his head, “you weren’t the one they needed to keep alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” The raven-haired boy felt a cold shiver run up his spine despite the weather.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I— I saw their memories, Mike,” Dustin whispered. “They did things. Bad things. They wouldn’t have let you go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite how quiet his friend had been when saying that, it still felt like booming thunder. As the information sunk in, neither of them spoke for a while, and if it hadn’t been for the background noise, he would’ve thought he’d gone deaf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know how to deal with that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you took care of it,” Mike eventually said, almost sounding like a question. “You made sure he wouldn’t hurt us. Right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel the other boy nodding. “I told him to never hurt another child ever again. He won’t even remember meeting you, or being in Hawkins.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you?” Mike frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He thought his friend killed me,” Dustin explained. “He thought the lab was gonna hunt him down for that. He’s gonna be running from them, even if they don’t plan to hurt him. They’re not going to look for me in this direction for a while — maybe ever, if he ended up telling them his friend killed me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good, right?” Mike asked weakly, slowly pulling away so he could look into Dustin’s eyes. His fingers were still shaking a little, but they were getting better. “That gives us more time to look for whatever we can find, and we’ll be safe, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mike…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew what that look in his friend’s eyes meant. Well, he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> know it, but he knew what was going on in the other boy’s head, for some reason. “No,” the raven-haired boy shook his head. “You almost got caught by those two. What if they bring more people next time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If that happens, I won’t be the only one in danger,” Dustin protested. “You’ll get hurt, and your family will get hurt.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not if we’re more prepared,” Mike frowned. “Will and Lucas will help us. We won’t be alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then they’ll get hurt as well,” Dustin countered. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, then I won’t tell them,” the black-haired boy scoffed, “but I’m already involved. You’re not getting rid of me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can always run away in the middle of the night,” the other boy stubbornly said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then I’ll run after you,” Mike said with finality. “You’re just a kid. You can’t find food and shelter in the middle of nowhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re also a kid,” the blue-eyed boy huffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I know Hawkins,” he said victoriously. “It’s not the middle of nowhere for me. Face it, Dustin, you need me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently, using Dustin’s name was a sure way to win an argument, since Mike could practically see whatever the other boy was trying to say die on his lips. He would definitely keep that in mind for the future.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no way I can convince you otherwise, is there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a chance,” Mike shook his head. “Now, we really should get home, since you must’ve exhausted yourself using your powers like that. I can bring you the casserole my mom made, and we can pretend that—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was cut off when a curly mop of hair pulled him in for another hug again, this time with a significantly stronger grip than the last. As he wrapped his arms around his friend again, he couldn’t stop a smile from forming on his lips. This kind of made him happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the most amazing person in the world,” Dustin whispered, as if it was a secret only a few people were allowed to know.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, Dustin,” he smiled, “you’re pretty—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mike’s brain short-circuited when he felt the unmistakable feeling of a pair of lips on his cheek. It didn’t last long — maybe only a second or two — but it still took his breath away.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That was… something.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He could feel his cheeks heating up. The spot where Dustin’s lips had touched tingled a little but not in a bad way. His heart was beating a little faster, and the world was getting a bit brighter and brighter. Who knew getting kissed on the cheek by Dustin would give him such a feeling? Definitely not Mike. He also kind of loved the feeling, and he definitely wouldn’t mind experiencing this again. Well, the fact that his eyes were becoming a bit sensitive to light and the brightness of the surrounding area that was slowly blinding him was a little annoying, but he could always close his eyes to deal with that.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dustin watched from a distance as Mike slowly stirred and woke up. The boy was leaning against the door of the bus, ten feet away from his bike. He looked around in confusion before getting up and slowly walking his bike home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dustin let out a relieved sigh at that before turning away and trying to head towards the main road. Mike didn’t notice the blood on the ground, which he’d tried to cover with dirt and an old metal plate he’d found. It wasn’t the most excellent cover-up in the world, but he was certain that a little rain would be able to wash away everything anyway. It just needed to rain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mike had been the one who’d suggested it, so on the off chance that his friend actually regained his memories sometime in the future, he shouldn’t get mad either. It had hurt his head like hell, and hurt his heart even worse, but the curly-haired boy had managed to erase every single trace of him in Mike’s memory in the last two days, and had given him a vague explanation as to why he was in the junkyard, and why he was wearing his sister’s ex-boyfriend’s T-shirt. The T-shirt was because there was no way he’d let Mike go home wearing something blood-soaked. Neither he nor his mom needed that in their lives. Therefore, Dustin was now wearing the thing, which, thankfully, wasn’t too tight for him to wear, although it was still tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he kept walking, the dirt under his — Mike’s — shoes turned into something more solid. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Step one: get to the main road, checked.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Mike wouldn’t be safe around him, and since the other boy also wouldn’t just let him leave without making a ruckus, this was the only good solution. Now he only needed to head away from Hawkins. Hopefully, he wasn’t disoriented enough to mess that up.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Step two: try not to run into anyone before I can wash all this blood off me.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sure, there was blood on his T-shirt, but blood was also coming out of his nose, ears, and even eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s new.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know how long he’d been walking, but eventually, it got dark around him. That was either a good sign since he wasn’t walking back to town, or a bad sign because his eyes were also refusing to work. He hoped it was the former. It definitely felt like he’d been through this already, with his veins pounding against his skull, blood dripping — from everywhere this time, and his legs feeling like jelly with every step he took. The difference was, this time, there was no rain, and he wasn’t barefoot. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Focus on the positive details.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of a car engine made him turn around, and the moment he saw the bright car light, his legs decided to give up on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m in deep shit.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, like it? Hate it? Saw some mistakes I should fix (even the cursed <em>your/you're</em>)? Let me know in the comments!</p><p>Anyway, one more chapter left. Until then!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Welcome to the last chapter of 010.</p><p>I just learned that I'm gonna be discharged in less than 24 hours so here's a celebratory update.</p><p>If you're here because you're interested in this pairing, just know that I love you! It's so difficult to find someone interested in this ship, and every time I see new content, it's almost always guaranteed to be group-porn.</p><p>I could talk about that for days, but you're not here for my rambling. Enjoy!</p><hr/><p>Chapter beta'd by @<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewasthewind/">shewasthewind</a>,</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Will let out a sigh and stopped to unzip his jacket before continuing to walk his bike home. He’d dressed for the cool October wind while he sped down the road at a much faster speed than this, so although it was still a relatively cold day, he was already sweating right now, partly due to all the walking he’d done and partly because of the afternoon sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although he had a driver’s license, his family was nowhere well off enough for him to have his own car, so most days he still had to rely on his trusty old bike to get him places. Today, however, it wasn’t too trusty, since it had broken down five minutes ago because of a flat tire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will was going back home from Mike’s — something he did every Sunday afternoon. He and Lucas came there every Saturday for their weekly Dungeons and Dragons session, which they always played until around midnight. Sometimes, Lucas would decide to head home and try not to wake any of the parents up, but most days, he would stay over, too, and they all would watch a movie or two before going to sleep at three in the morning. Mrs. Wheeler had even joked about getting a mattress for them in the basement since they’d spent so much time down there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This week’s session had been a lot more interesting than he’d anticipated. Granted, Mike had been dropping hints about it the whole week, but they were the kind of hints that only made sense when everything got unveiled, so there had been no way for either him or Lucas to know that the halfling bard they’d rescued two sessions ago could open a teleportation circle to the 88th layer of the Abyss. That had saved them a lot of time but had also led to new problems seeing how they were extremely underleveled to defeat a horde of demons and rescue the chained paladin now. He wondered if the bard had any other trick up his sleeves. Mike had been pretty proud of himself for coming up with this development.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me,” a strange voice pulled Will away from his fantasy world and back to reality, “do you need help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The voice belonged to a curly-haired teen in a hoodie, who was approaching him from his house, and whom he’d never seen before. That was saying something, since even if he didn’t know everyone at school and their names, Hawkins was still small enough for him to at least knew of the existence of people around his age, especially because he’d been on this road countless times since—</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, wait. That’s right.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> seen moving trucks yesterday while going to Mike’s. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This kid must be new in town.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Will had probably stared for a bit too long since the guy suddenly stopped in his tracks. “I just got here yesterday,” he explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, no, I know,” Will hastily said. “I mean, I saw the moving trucks yesterday. Hi, welcome to Hawkins.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” the other teen shot him a wide grin. He noticed the curly-haired boy was missing some teeth, which, considering how old they were, was a bit unusual. His look must’ve said just as much since the boy gave him an affirmative nod. “Yeah, I have a condition,” he said. “Cleidocranial dysplasia. Basically, it takes time for my adult teeth to grow, and I don’t have collarbones. I would show you, but I don’t want to freak you out within thirty seconds of meeting you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The teen’s expression had changed now. It looked like somehow he vaguely recognized him, or was trying to remember him from somewhere. The chance of them having met before was zero, since this guy was from out of town, and Will had been in Hawkins his entire life. Not to mention, he definitely would’ve remembered meeting someone with this cryo-thing. It wasn’t exactly a condition he could easily forget. This curly-haired boy also couldn’t have recognized him either, since this was the guy’s second day in Hawkins, so he couldn’t have heard all the rumors about Will from—</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait. What if his cousin goes to my school or something?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What brings you to Hawkins?” Will asked. “Do you have family here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This was Cl—” the guy stopped himself as if he was changing his mind about something, “I mean, my mom’s childhood home. She’s always wanted to go back to take care of it. You know, sentimental value and shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If his mom had to move back here to take care of the house, there was a really low chance the guy had any other living relative in town. Plus, he didn’t remember the old woman who had lived here having any grandchildren. Like he said, this was a small town. Everyone knew everyone, even if they didn’t know their names.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In conclusion, there was no explanation he could think of that would explain why the guy looked like he was trying to remember Will from somewhere. A doppelgänger was the most likely scenario he could think of, but that didn’t make much sense either. The guy would’ve realized his name—</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, right. I haven’t introduced myself. Nice going.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m Will,” he said, sticking his hand out. “Will Byers. Nice to meet you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a moment, the boy’s eyes widened in a silent </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh,</span>
  </em>
  <span> which at the same time didn’t make sense to Will and also raised a red flag in his mind. His reputation had never been the best. However, that expression disappeared almost immediately, replaced by a warm grin. “Nice to meet you, Will Byers. Dustin Henderson, at your service.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rumors traveled fast around here, so by the time the new guy walked into his History class and sat down at the empty seat next to Lucas, he already knew five things regarding him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>First of all, he was living at Mrs. Henderson’s old house. A lot of kids at school called that the abandoned haunted house, but it was definitely neither haunted nor abandoned. It was true that since the old woman had died, nobody had lived there, but her daughter used to come to Hawkins every summer to keep it in good condition, until the day she hired someone to do that for her instead, so in reality, it was more like a summer beach house, if said house was neither close to a beach nor occupied during summer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Second, he was adopted. Rumor had it that after her mom died, Ms. Henderson had gotten so lonely, she had gone straight to the nearest orphanage and picked the first kid she saw. He doubted that had been the case, since he’d seen the lady before, and she didn’t seem like the type to leave a child, who would’ve been about six if they were the same age, somewhere else, and come live in Hawkins for a month every year. It would’ve made more sense if she’d immediately hired someone to do it instead, but she had only been doing that for the last four or five years. Mike’s mom probably would know more about this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next, he was missing some teeth. Now, the rumors behind this were a little wild, so he didn’t know which to believe, or if he should even believe in any of them. Some people said he was a vampire and had retracted those teeth for whatever reason, which he had chosen not to believe, since even if vampires had existed, being able to control every single tooth instead of just the canine teeth was definitely overselling. Others said he could use his bones as weapons like the Wolverine, which, </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the fuck?</span>
  </em>
  <span> The closest one to the truth was probably that the guy was mafia and got into a lot of fights. From the science hoodie he was wearing, Lucas guessed he was often a victim of bullying. He mentally sighed for agreeing that going from ‘being bullied’ to ‘mafia’ was the most likely thing to happen to rumors around here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fourth, there was something shady about the guy, or at least there was something weird. Rumor had it that they had been on the run for a while now. That was probably based on another rumor about how Ms. Henderson had lived in three different states in the last five years. Some speculated that they were being hunted, which was probably where the vampire rumor had come from. Some said the boy was a government experiment, which explained the Wolverine thing. Some mentioned </span>
  <em>
    <span>juvie,</span>
  </em>
  <span> which was definitely why there had been that getting into fights rumor. Lucas probably needed to ask the guy directly if he wanted to know, although they would probably need to be friends first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And last but not least, the boy was Troy’s next target. That was probably true, since Troy was the type who would want to assert dominance as soon as possible, and the ‘mafia’ news wasn’t helping the new kid. He wondered if anyone had warned the guy yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning to the new kid — Henderson, as he’d introduced earlier, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>duh</span>
  </em>
  <span> — Lucas noticed the guy abruptly turning away. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Has he been looking at me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he whispered, trying not to let Mr. Langdon hear them talking, “anyone told you you’re about to get beat up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Too late did he realize he could have worded it a bit better. That had sounded more like a threat than a friendly warning. Henderson turned towards him with a raised eyebrow. “By you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Lucas made a face, “by Troy. He’s the school jerk. You walking around with those rumors? Definitely bad for his reputation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy looked at him, his expression unreadable for a while, before Lucas could see his lips slightly twitch. “Only Troy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, it was Lucas’ turn to raise an eyebrow. “Someone warned you about Troy and James?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kind of,” Henderson answered with a shrug. “I heard that they’re the assholes around here.” There was a ghost of a smile on his lips and a nostalgic look in his eyes, as if it was an inside joke he’d long forgotten.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re the worst,” Lucas nodded. “My friends and I have been their targets since primary school, but that’s always the case with nerds and bullies.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds like I’ll probably get along really well with you and your friends,” the other teen chuckled. “Tell me, do you like Star Wars?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas liked this boy already.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mike was sitting at their usual lunch table, waiting for Will and Lucas to show up. For some miraculous reason, none of them had any shared period with each other before lunch — except for him and Max, or Will and Max in first period. However, the redhead wouldn’t be joining them today, since her smart mouth had landed her in detention this noon with Mr. Greene. If he was being completely honest, had she not mouthed off, he would have, so in a way, she’d saved him from being in that room </span>
  <em>
    <span>today.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Will suddenly put his lunch tray down next to Mike, pulling him back to the cafeteria. “Hey,” the shorter teen greeted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” Mike smiled back as his best friend sat down. “Max isn’t joining us today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Why?” Will raised an eyebrow. “What did she do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just some harmless humor that Mr. Greene did not appreciate,” Mike chuckled. “Long story short, the newest rule in his class is, what he does with his wife is none of our business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hazel-eyed boy giggled at that. “I swear, it’s like you two want him to hate you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He hates us </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> before we even did anything,” Mike protested. “Oh, by the way, have you heard that news about the new student?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a dumb question,” Mike huffed, “of course you have. It’s pretty much all everyone at school talked about all morning. Max and I haven’t seen him yet, but the rumors are making him out to be a ten-foot giant, or a Wookiee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m pretty—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, I know he can’t actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>be</span>
  </em>
  <span> a Wookiee,” Mike snorted. “Can you imagine going to school with a Wookiee? How awesome would that be? Anyway, I think they said he lives in the old Henderson house.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, isn’t the Henderson house on the way to your house?” Mike raised an eyebrow. “He’s like five minutes from your place. Think we’ll see him if we bike to your house today after school? Maybe he’s—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you would let me talk,” Will rolled his eyes, “you’d know that I met him already. I saw him yesterday when I was going home. We talked for a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Mike’s eyes widened. “What’s he like?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Will suddenly stopped when he saw something behind Mike, and his face lit up. As Mike turned around, he spotted Lucas approaching their table with someone he didn’t know, and suddenly it seemed like time was slowing down so he could take in the new guy’s appearance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The guy was short — probably around Will’s height — and had curly brown hair. Well, he thought it was brown hair — he’d heard his mom call it ‘dark blonde’ even though no matter how many times he looked, he still couldn’t see the blond part. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Or maybe it was another tone and I’m just shit at this color thing.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Lucas’ company was wearing a trucker cap that looked like it got inspired by a barber pole, a purple hoodie that was a souvenir from the Science Museum of Minnesota from the look of it, and a pair of blue jeans. As the guy walked closer and Mike got to look into his bright blue eyes, a strange wave of familiarity washed over him. He knew he’d never seen the new kid before, but there was something so familiar about the guy, and something deep inside him was telling him he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> know the kid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It might’ve been him projecting onto the guy, but Mike could’ve sworn that for a brief moment, the new guy’s eyebrows raised in recognition when their eyes met as well. The more plausible explanation was probably the guy had recognized Will since they’d talked the previous day, but that part deep inside him kept telling him not to listen to the reasonable part.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mike’s eyes subconsciously moved to the guy’s wrist and landed on the watch he was wearing. For some inexplicable reason, he was a bit disappointed to see the watch there, followed by shock for somehow thinking that he’d find something there if it hadn’t been for the watch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, guys,” Lucas greeted, completely oblivious to the influx of thoughts Mike had experienced in the last two seconds. “Hope you don’t mind, but I invited someone to sit with us today. Mike, Will, meet—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dustin,” Mike supplied before he realized it, and his eyes immediately went wide.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, like it? Hate it? Saw some mistakes I should fix (even the cursed <em>your/you're</em>)? Let me know in the comments!</p><p>That's it for what's probably my last gift to someone on this website. This was probably not worth the wait lol.</p><p>Anyway, see you around, maybe.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come yell at me @<a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/trashmouthdiangelo">trashmouthdiangelo</a> on tumblr.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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